“I have good taste when it comes to all things, Evelyn.”
Tiffany giggles when I suck her earlobe into my mouth. She spins around in my arms, causing me to spill a little coffee.
“Thank you.” She places another kiss on my lips. Her minty breath hits my nose. I can tell she brushed her teeth recently.
“Anything for you.” I grip her ass and bury my face in her neck, loving her vanilla and chocolate scent.
“Alright, you two,” Ms. Rose laughs. “Y'all can tear each other’s clothes off back in your bedroom. My chunky man does not want to witness it.”
Tiffany and I both turn to Ms. Rose and laugh.
“I’m going to finish getting dressed.” Tiffany turns and walks toward the door. She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Nico, maybe you can come show me that thing you were talking about?” She bites down on her bottom lip.
I place my cup on the counter.
“Coming, dear.”
The sound of Ms. Rose’s laughter follows behind us as we both rush for our bedroom like horny teens.
Most of my day was spent on PR. Trying to re-instate the safe and luxury image of Basille Hotel and Resorts. Maseo went through all the security systems and the hotel’s networks to make sure no other cyber-attack could occur. I hired extra security staff for each hotel to make sure that the perimeters are safe. Yes, it cost me a couple million dollars, but it was well worth it. After spending much of my day as Niccolo Basille, it was time to handle some Saint business.
I have a meeting with my US runners. After glancing at my watch, I see it’s almost midnight. I’d talked to Tiffany earlier and told her I’d be late getting home. I imagine she’s asleep now.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I stare down at the screensaver. It’s an image I took while on the island. Tiffany was wearing a yellow bathing suit. She was sitting on the beach, her legs spread with Noah sitting between them. They were diggingin the sand. Noah had on a little sun hat and no shirt. I smile as I take in the image. Everything I love captured in one photo.
The sound of car tires rolling over gravel makes me put my phone away.
“It’s go time,” Ghost announces from the front seat of the car. He climbs out and then comes around to let me out. I step out the back seat of the SUV.
Two black chargers pull up at the same time. I walk around to the front of my SUV, Ghost on one side of me with Roc on the other. Two more of my men are with us, their job is to collect the money. I had more security scattered around out of sight. Not because I didn’t trust these guys, but because a lot of money is being handled and you can never trust anybody when this type of money is involved.
Kingston Jackson steps out of the driver’s side of the all-black Hellcat. His second in command climbs out the driver's side of a second smoke-gray Hellcat. They are followed by three of their men, all carrying black duffels.
“Saint,” Kingston says, flashing me his platinum grills. “What it do?”
He reaches out a hand, and we dap each other up with a one-arm hug.
“Kingston, not much. How’re the twins?”
He chuckles. Kingston is about 6’3” two hundred and sixty pounds. He looked like he was meant to be on somebody’s football field and not the head of one of the largest and most deadly gangs on the west coast.
“Bad as hell. They started kindergarten this fall. Already they’ve been in trouble a few times.” He shakes his head.
I love hearing the stories of his twin daughters. From day one, those girls have been giving him hell. His second in command, Bishop, daps me up in greeting.
“Sup’ Saint.”
Bishop wasn’t much smaller than Kingston. Kingston had him by maybe an inch. Where Kingston was dark-skinned with a low cut, Bishop was lighter with long locs.
“You still enjoying married life?” Bishop asks with a grin. He had a mouth full of platinum too, but his were made to look like fangs.
“Hell yeah,” I say. “Still the best decision I ever made.”
Both men chuckle. They were both at my wedding. I didn’t just consider these guys my employees; they were friends.
“How was business?” I ask getting down to the real reason we were here.
“1.3 Million,” Kingston says, pointing to the duffle bags his guys are holding. “I need to double my usual order next month. Got a group out in Texas that wants to purchase from me.”
